A Fire! A Knife! A Black Crow Calls!-------------------------------------------

Discourse tore the daily paper,
opinions in formation
phalanx of ink –
fires of ire,
tars of corruption
pulled down the common
and killed them.

We have fed ourselves crow
and called it chicken.
Humiliating lapse in character
defines a culture
appropriated
on little sips of artisanal spirits
oversaturated on the same idea –
proving idiocy exists.

Vapid media
powdered faces,
just skeletons;
just a jig –
Attuned to misconceptions
that we are better
than we really are.
Static, the worthwhile channel
despite the rhapsodic,
it truly sounds as we are –
a caw, unanimously we all speak.

Wretched violence
we cannot escape
chasing this fable that we will behave.
A knife that slices away
putrefaction –
of the derogated
petrified –
fears of obligation
promises –
to deride

Black suit
snake oil peddlers
to our ideals
that have become nothing
but virtue signaling vipers.
Working our senses
splitting us between the legs –
whore in the dark
an encroaching waste of time.

Pen struck blood
on the back of a man
broken by the rack of labor,
death of the dream.

The Constitution torn asunder,
paper confetti to celebrate
vanity of fake intellecton and blind reason.
This is just a mockery
of life.

A fire!
Oh, how it burns desire –
A knife!
Oh how it divides our empire –
A black crow calling!
He harks a warning
that we are all damned
to repeat this, forevermore.

This piece sounds like it comes from a very angry place, which I can comprehend, but I assure you that there is a utopia, a kingdom of Heaven. We will get there, and we will let be in almost perfect neutrality.